Ten hours and counting before I get on that car which will take me to that plane which will take me home.

It's been a while since I've been running or swimming. I am antsy, wound tightly. And if I end up sitting infront of a movie tonight, I can't be held responsible for my actions. Movies and I get along if I've done something involving a lot of exertion earlier... then I'm quiet and sweet and will probably fall asleep somewhat adorably if you like me, annoyingly if you don't.

...but if I've spent the day in a low-key slump, and have to finish it quietly, I might pop unexpectedly and do something ridiculous, like jumping on the bed. Or just be loud. Whatever.

I'm just antsy.

--------------

Nervous really. Ms. Fashionista teases me over the phone: "no matter what you say, you are dating." Okay. My dating life seems to be dictated by what everyone ELSE says. This is a dilemna.

(Is this really truestoryof or just thedelightfulmissa'sdatingmusings?)

Anyway. You find me here waiting to find out what I'm doing tonight, wondering if I should go out tomorrow when I'm Home to a Halloween party because Porcupine and TheUsualSuspects will be there, and I'm just wondering what sort of position I'm putting myself into.

(I got seven hours of sleep last night and felt the most rested I've felt in a long while. I've gone to bed past 1am every night since Sunday and have woken up at 6am at the latest)

The dilemma is simple. Back home I'm Porcupine'sGirl. Have been, and will continue to be for a long time. There's a history of friendship, with mad crushes from him towards me since we were 14. And lookie here, it's been five years. Am I really old enough to have five years of history with someone? Then again, I never thought I would be so old while this young. I never thought I would be calling landlords, fixing toilets, preparing to take off for China or... well, I never thought I would end up doing anything I've done.

But here I am. And it's 8:36 on a Friday night and I have invitations and yet I'm still on my bed in a sweatshirt and skirt typing this.

Really, what's the problem? Nothing's defined in college. BeautifulBlonde has a string of boys on her phone and doesn't mind calling them several times in one night - it's explicit what they're there for. LadyMatterAFact doesn't mind her undefined status. It's just the way things go. And I, until being explicitly monogamous with Porcupine, didn't either. And I fought it hard. But the switch's been flipped. I'm wired for monogamy, because of this LoyaltyComplex. It applies to friendship, and EverythingElse and it's difficult: I didn't call AustralianLandscapeArtist last night. I instead spent the night dancing in the middle of a crowd that couldn't have appreciated my redheaded girly self too much.

----------

"What do you want?" Everyone asks me this. Everyone asks everyone this. Everyone doesn't know. We all assume it's one thing, and then the other, and then doubt that we ever wanted it in the first place.

(oh my god)

What do you want from life? What do you want most? I want to feel at the end that I did all that I could that I lived all I could have lived that I loved because I don't think I have and I feel very strongly that it's quite possible that I won't.

(oh my god)

So the Dinosaur/Porcupine/Australian/Unknown isn't a problem, is it? It's just a shallow manifestation of the fact that I might be so much of a perfectionist and idealist that no one can really measure up, including myself.

Watch yourself, I get truthful when I've done nothing during the day.

I mean I read a book on the porch while drinking tea and felt warm welcoming attractive deep and intelligent. but that was three hours ago.

And then I found the perfect subject for my next art assignment. And dropped off the deposit for my apartment next semester.

And I'm leaving in... 9 hours, so realistically, I shouldn't do anything tonight. I should pack and think about the funeral and my family, who I cannot wait to see. I should also skip the party, if only to spend the greatest amount of time in a real house. I should I should I should wo yin gai, yin gai, yin gai...

Wo yin gai juede. ye yin gai pao bu, dan shi wo hai shi bu gao xing, so yi wo mei you. Bu zhi dao shenme shi bu dui. bu zhi dao wei shenme wo bu zhi dao.

wo shi frusterated/confused/and wo juede mediocre.

Mediocre. Probably the worst way to feel. Not terrible, just a slightly dirty ache of uninterestingness.

Have a good night. Maybe I'll spend mine reading.

.

Busy. Busy. Excited. Busy. Busy.

I need to clean my room and my head.

Jaded, I needed a chance of scenery.

The Internship: I will not be at a newspaper this summer. In a plot twist, last week when interviewing a source, he leaned across the desk and offered me an internship at a PolicyThinkTank.

"Just write for us. We'll pay whatever it takes."

How could I say no? No to a summer with TheUsualSuspects, money, the chance to write about education policy in-depth, have an office/share a secretary/stay the summer for once.

I said wait. I said I was afraid of technical articles that no one could understand. And he said unturn rocks. And I said yes. And I'm afraid - there's that always - that I will find myself without insights, leads, and production, but that always works itself out.

The Boy(s): Don't feel like rehashing. But I might as well leave these crumbs. TattooedEngineer is great. But I know, and you know, he's not someone I'll end up with when it's all said and done. And I'm not looking for ThatPerson, but I honestly don't have time right now for anyone else but.

There was a lunch that made this apparent. I'm young and impulsive, but I know birthday candle smoke when I see it so I'll lock up the rest of that for now.

The Body: We dance up the rock wall now. As the weather gets warmer, bike rides beckon. And, hush don't tell anyone you might ruin it, but I think I'll try that Marathon in the fall.

The Insides: I've got nothing to prove anymore.